love your flaws (and live for your mistakes)
by TenTenD
Summary: They dance to a dangerous tune, the Hand of the King and the Queen. Aelinor Targaryen finds herself ruling an empire, each Kingdom with its own troubles. Brynden Rivers is the man behind the power. And together they strive to keep the peace. Brynden Rivers/Aelinor Targaryen - vignettes
1. Chapter 1

Her brother was busy with his scrolls and books. Aelinor traced the surface of the desk. He didn't want her. He never did. "Give me a son," she asked him over and over again. He never did, lost in his reading. Almost like her words were the wind passing by. "Please." Her knees hurt from kneeling so long. Her mind had grown numb from all those prayer hours. The Gods wouldn't listen to her, wretched woman she was. Nor would her husband. Was she to remain a maid forever?

The King's Hand entered. He bowed to her, his one eye cutting straight through her lovely small face. Aelinor excused herself. She walked out, gently closing the door. Her heart thumped. Her cheeks reddened. Brynden 'Bloodraven' Rivers had seemed to be able to see in the depths of her soul.

It frightened her. That one crimson eye of his could read every single one of her secrets. Queen Aelinor stepped gingerly over the cool marble. The shiver in her bones was washed away by the breeze. Oh, she was afraid of those secrets buried deep inside.


	2. Chapter 2

Silver flowing hair, mismatched eyes and a lean, tall figure, Shiera Seastar couldn't be more different than the Queen is she tried. Aelinor pushed back a strand of hair that had escaped its entrapping. Aegon's daughter was speaking to a handsome knight who was obviously trying very hard to keep his gaze on her face.

Aelinor shifted uneasily in her seat. Aerys drank from his spiced wine, scarcely paying her a moment's attention. The feast pleased her none. She would have liked to dance, but Aerys would not bestir himself even for that. The Seven knew what he found so interesting in that scroll he had placed on his lap.

She hadn't asked to be his Queen. "I would take a walk in the gardens," she told him, standing from her seat. Rather she would have had anyone else for a husband.

The grass bent under her feet when she stepped outside. "Have a little mercy," Aelinor beseeched the dark skies. What fault was it of hers to be punished thus? She had never chosen anything for herself in this life; not her position, not the manner of her living, and certainly not her husband.


	3. Chapter 3

Rhaegel twirled her round and round, laughter on his face and joy in his voice. He could only give her this, she knew. Wide eyed and out of breath she followed his lead, laughing along. The shadows reached out to them. "I cannot keep up," she insisted as her heavy skirts swished and swirled. Out of practice, out of breath and out of the Gods' grace. Aelinor smiled bitterly.

They broke apart in the main hall. The King's Hand stood in the light, his ruby eye trained on them. He bowed, not saying one word. The Queen turned her face away. Why was it that she could not hold his gaze? "My Lord Hand," she greeted, her voice barely a whisper.

"My Queen," he returned politely, "my Prince." Brynden nodded to Rhaegel. And Aelinor was as always outside of it all. Like a glass wall separated her from the rest of the world.

She closed her eyes, trying to gather her thoughts. She was ever unimportant, easily overlooked and easily forgotten. "I bid you a good day, brother," she told Rhaegel. "Lord Hand, to you too."


	4. Chapter 4

Her brother was busy with his scrolls and books. Aelinor traced the surface of the desk. He didn't want her. He never did. "Give me a son," she asked him over and over again. He never did, lost in his reading. Almost like her words were the wind passing by. "Please." Her knees hurt from kneeling so long. Her mind had grown numb from all those prayer hours. The Gods wouldn't listen to her, wretched woman she was. Nor would her husband. Was she to remain a maid forever?

The King's Hand entered. He bowed to her, his one eye cutting straight through her lovely small face. Aelinor excused herself. She walked out, gently closing the door. Her heart thumped. Her cheeks reddened. Brynden 'Bloodraven' Rivers had seemed to be able to see in the depths of her soul.

It frightened her. That one crimson eye of his could read every single one of her secrets. Queen Aelinor stepped gingerly over the cool marble. The shiver in her bones was washed away by the breeze. Oh, she was afraid of those secrets buried deep inside.


	5. Chapter 5

Silver flowing hair, mismatched eyes and a lean, tall figure, Shiera Seastar couldn't be more different than the Queen is she tried. Aelinor pushed back a strand of hair that had escaped its entrapping. Aegon's daughter was speaking to a handsome knight who was obviously trying very hard to keep his gaze on her face.

Aelinor shifted uneasily in her seat. Aerys drank from his spiced wine, scarcely paying her a moment's attention. The feast pleased her none. She would have liked to dance, but Aerys would not bestir himself even for that. The Seven knew what he found so interesting in that scroll he had placed on his lap.

She hadn't asked to be his Queen. "I would take a walk in the gardens," she told him, standing from her seat. Rather she would have had anyone else for a husband.

The grass bent under her feet when she stepped outside. "Have a little mercy," Aelinor beseeched the dark skies. What fault was it of hers to be punished thus? She had never chosen anything for herself in this life; not her position, not the manner of her living, and certainly not her husband.


	6. Chapter 6

The empty cup rolled away. Aelinor watched it intently. She concentrated on the soft sound it made, drifting along the cold stones. It was almost like music. A song all of her own, the young woman thought with delight. No one had ever sung her one. Other maidens had had suitors and gifts and such. Aelinor had been forced to wed a man who would rather bring books to his bed than come to hers. It was a sad thing, but no less true.

And now that she thought about it, she couldn't imagine Aerys climbing beside her in bed. He had always been her brother, and nothing else. "He doesn't want me to stay, but he won't let me go," Aelinor complained to the starlit sky. "What sort of men is that?" Not once had he asked after her well-being, not once had he touched her as a husband should. Maybe it was better like this. Perhaps the Gods were protecting her from something.

On the vast expanse of pitch black the moon came outside from behind some clouds. Its light fell on the golden cup, making it shine.


	7. Chapter 7

The lovers shared secret words. Aelinor tried to tear her gaze away. Yet there was something mesmerising about them. For a brief moment she wondered what it would be like to have a lover of her one. Someone to whisper in her ears and hold her hand and smile at her.

But not just that. There were plenty of people who would agree to something which never went beyond the surface. What she really craved was closeness to another human being, a soul to form a bond with, a heart to beat with hers. Surely she was not asking for an impossible thing.

Flowers in her hair, the woman leaned into her partner. He glanced at her, then placed his arm around her shoulders. Their eyes met and held. Aelinor's breath drew to a halt. She watched the closely. What they had was a blessed thing, it was easy to see. The Queen placed her hands in her lap demurely. Her head turned towards her husband. He was staring straight ahead.


	8. Chapter 8

Daenerys Targaryen had had the love of Daemon Blackfyre. Aelinor stared at the portrait of Aegon's daughter. She had been beautiful, with her pale skin and silvery hair and those wide eyes. Queen Naerys had not had many portraits painted, yet the resemblance was undeniable. "It is no wonder he started a rebellion for you," she told the woman in the picture. Many men had died during that war, the Blackfyre Rebellion.

"It was not for her that he fought," a voice said from behind her. Aelinor turned around with accustomed grace. Her eyes landed on Brynden Rivers. "Daemon fought for the Throne. 'Twas kingship he wanted most."

"Then he did not love her?" Hadn't he loved the woman for who he'd torn the realm apart? "I find that hard to believe, my Lord Hand."

"He did love her, just not enough to place her first and foremost in his thoughts." Brynden stared at her.

"What could he have done?"Daeron had left them no choice, Aelinor thought.

"He could have taken her and run. Yet he preferred to fight a war." The King's Hand shook his head.


	9. Chapter 9

Music all around her, the Queen smiled at Gowen Baratheon. His blue eyes twinkled merrily as he bowed in front of her. "Pray allow me a dance, Your Grace." A broad grin appeared on his face at her nod. He presented her with an upturned hand.

Aelinor slid from her place at the table and placed her hand in his. "Lead the way, my Lord." He was a handsome man, yet only a third son. He was set to marry Tya Lannister. "How fares the Lady Tya, my Lord?"

"She is well enough," the young man said. Something in his face warned her away from the subject. Gowen volunteered no more information. "Are you enjoying tonight's festivities?"

"They are magnificent." A small lie, Aelinor told herself, a small lie to cover those ugly truths they would rather close their eyes to. Outside these stone walls people were dying. The sickness was spreading like rot over fruit, poisoning everyone slowly, slowly.

A lively song was played and Gowen spun her around. He smiled sweetly to her.


	10. Chapter 10

It was by mistake that she found herself in the godswood. Her husband's right hand man stood before her. "Lord Brynden," Aelinor greeted feeling somewhat shy using the man's given name. "Forgive the intrusion. I did not mean to disturb you."

"My Lady, you do not disturb me. 'Tis the godswood. Anyone may come and go." He sat back down on a tree stump. "What brings you here?"

"I was taking a walk, and I ended up here." She had been following her feet until they led her to him. "You keep the faith of the old gods?" She didn't need his nod for confirmation. "And do they answer your prayers?" Her have stopped a long time ago.

"Sometimes," he replied, "yet rarely the answer I want." There was a sadness in his eyes when he said that. Aelinor assumed it was because of Shiera Seastar. It was no secret his love for his half-sister.

"Then why continue praying?" Aelinor looked him straight in the face, honesty shining in her eyes. "If they do not hear you, what is the purpose?"


	11. Chapter 11

The bodies burned, flesh melting and bones cracking. These were not the first, nor were they the last. Aelinor watched the pyromancers creating their wildfire. Aerys had locked himself in his rooms yet again and it had fallen to his Queen to rule. Not that Aelinor particularly minded. Let her brother keep to his scrolls and books and she would see to the realm.

Plague, she though as she watched the fire eat away at what remained of the corpses. This sickness had taken a King, Princes, many lords and she did not care to think how many peasants. The masters were doing all they could, yet nothing seemed to be able to stave the pestilence.

"Are we cursed?" the Queen asked. The Seven Kingdoms has bled and lives had been lost and many more were being lost every minute of the day. "Is this to be the end of us all?" Likely not, there had been other such epidemics; the sun still rose in the morning and the world went on.


	12. Chapter 12

The sound of something breaking reached Aelinor's ears. The young woman moved against the wall, her back against it. Something that sounded suspiciously like a moan came fro behind the closed doors. Why had she dismissed her handmaids, the Queen wondered. Surely this would have been easier to endure had she not given them leave to do as they wished. For Gods' sake, this was Saelya's room. Had she lost her mind? This woman, could she not tell it was daylight?

Aelinor supposed she couldn't begrudge her companions their small pleasures; however, it would not do at all for them to have no decency. And what of her? Standing as she was in the hallway listening to it all.

Envy blossomed in her breast. Again she was being reminded of all the things she wouldn't have. Along with the hurt came anger. Straightening her back, Aelinor told herself that this was no way for a Queen to act. She had dignity, and she had her part to play. Wishing for more would only bring her trouble.


	13. Chapter 13

Brynden allowed himself a moment of rest. He tempered his anger. There was nothing to be done in the case of Shiera. Again he'd asked her to marry him, again she'd refused him. His half-sister liked playing this game. And he, fool that he was, went along with it.

"My Lord," the Queen's timid voice broke through his thoughts. She stood there, her small hand resting against the dark bark. Her eyes followed his movement. "I thought you'd gone."

She was a slight woman, but not without her charms. Queen Aelinor, his King's wife in all but deed; Brynden felt a surge of something shooting through him. Pity? No, it wasn't that. There was some sympathy but more than that, there was understanding. "Yet I'm still here."

"Yet you are still here," she agreed softly. Aelinor stepped over the fallen twigs and leaves. She was coming closer and closer. Her hand reached out to his, fingers barely touching the stark white flesh. "You are always here." Small fingers wrapped around his larger hand. She rose herself higher and whispered in his ear. "I know you are always here


	14. Chapter 14

Her lips trembled under his. Aelinor held onto his shoulders, her grip tight. What had prompted this? She tried to remember but her mind refused to cooperate. All of her attention was trained on the feeling of warm lips on hers. Brynden released her with a sharp movement.

"I could have your head for this," she told him. "If anyone had seen us, can you imagine the scandal?" Did men ever stop to think about their actions or did they simply leap forward like simpleminded beasts? "You are the King's Hand."

"And you the Queen," he replied, apparently bored. "Nobody saw us, my Lady." His assurance was accompanied by a barely perceptible tightening of his hold on her arm. "You needn't worry about it." He kissed her again to her utter bafflement.

"Why are you doing this?" she questioned him, and perhaps herself too.

"Because if we are always here, we might as well be here together." Once more his mouth descended on hers. "Because I want to and you do not protest to it."


	15. Chapter 15

The bodies burned, flesh melting and bones cracking. These were not the first, nor were they the last. Aelinor watched the pyromancers creating their wildfire. Aerys had locked himself in his rooms yet again and it had fallen to his Queen to rule. Not that Aelinor particularly minded. Let her brother keep to his scrolls and books and she would see to the realm.

Plague, she though as she watched the fire eat away at what remained of the corpses. This sickness had taken a King, Princes, many lords and she did not care to think how many peasants. The masters were doing all they could, yet nothing seemed to be able to stave the pestilence.

"Are we cursed?" the Queen asked. The Seven Kingdoms has bled and lives had been lost and many more were being lost every minute of the day. "Is this to be the end of us all?" Likely not, there had been other such epidemics; the sun still rose in the morning and the world went on.


	16. Chapter 16

Vaena braided Aelinor's hair. "I see you are of a bright disposition this day, my Lady," the girl remarked, twining strands of hair together. "It is good to see you smile."

"It is good to smile," Aelinor replied. "I am told my King has not left his apartments for a score of days already." It was his way, but that did not mean she did not worry at times. She might not have a great fondness for him, but they were brother and sister still. So long as blood tied them together, she could not forget about him.

"Indeed, Your Grace." Vaena tied her hair with a long red ribbon.

"I think I shall visit him." Gathering her skirts in her hand, Aelinor took a deep breath. "I have no more need of you, Vaena. You may leave."

And with that she went along the corridors until she reached Aerys' chambers. She knocked and entered. Her brother slept, a book still in his hands. Something swelled within her. She covered him with a blanket, and gave him an almost smile.


	17. Chapter 17

"Kinslayer." The accusatory word drifted to the Queen's ears. Pushing the door open, she saw Maekar and her husband sitting at the table. "How could you name him Hand?" There had always been enmity between her brother and Lord Rivers, Aelinor recalled.

Aerys' eyes drifted to her as she stepped over the threshold. Maekar turned to see who had intruded, and a look of discontent crossed his features when he saw his sister. "What more can I say to you, sweet sister. Instead of offering advice to our King, you choose to pray in the Sept all day."

"My Lord brother should learn that advice is to be given only when requested," Aelinor snapped at him. She would not give him the satisfaction of winning their verbal spar that easily. "What have you against the Lord Hand? He is most diligent in his duties."

At that Maekar threw her a thunderous stare, which she promptly ignored. That in turn angered him further. "You know as well as I what he is! A bastard and a kinslayer!"


	18. Chapter 18

Men had this way of showing their anger. Aelinor was partly amused. But only just so. Maekar had always been volatile. And he only got worse as time went on. Shaking her head the young woman held back a snort of laughter. The Maester gave her a stern look, but made no comment. "It is a light chill, Your Grace. Give it a few days of recovery and you shall be fine." By the looks of him he had been expecting her affliction to be of a different nature.

No doubt more and more people were wondering when she would conceive. What could she say to them? The Queen smiled at the Maester. Not many knew about the living arrangements of the King and Queen. "I thank you for the care." Outside she allowed herself the release of laughter.

"What find you so amusing, my Lady?" Brynden asked, stepping out from the shadows.

Since those kisses he hadn't even tried to touch her hand. Aelinor had put them down to a momentarily lapse of judgement. She laughed even harder. "Why, life, my Lord Hand!"


	19. Chapter 19

Lord Beron Stark has sent word from the North. The man's letter was, as always, without artifice, neat and plainly written. He had little news to share, for not much happened in the frozen realm of the Seven Kingdoms. "It is just as well, my Lord," Aelinor observed. The smallfolk were already making trouble as it was. Rain had stopped falling after the sickness outbreak ended. Now that they were not dying of the plague, they perished of hunger. Many have left their homes in search of a chance at survival.

"I shall order them back to their lands." Bryden did not tolerate such antics. He was a hard, forbidding man, and Aelinor understood his point, but she knew he would not succeed.

Placing her hand on his shoulder, she said to him, "Be that as it may, they will not listen." She would have liked to counsel lenience, however she knew it would serve for naught. "Trade dwindles too, my Lord. Think on these matters." Violet to red, Aelinor found herself petrified. Unconsciously she leaned in, to his seated figure.


	20. Chapter 20

"Shall you let him hide in his rooms forever?" Aelinor asked Brynden as they studied the reports together. There were times when she felt that she hadn't done nearly enough for her brother. "Surely he listens to you more than he does to me."

Brynden fixed her with his good eye. "You've been avoiding me, my Lady. Is there any explanation you could give me for that?" Truly enough, she'd been delegating her duties to other people in hopes of rousing Aerys' interest for her. She thought that if perhaps she spent some time with him he might give in.

"That is hardly relevant, my Lord Hand." Yet it must have been relevant enough for him, because Brynden caught her hand, just under her elbow and pulled her closer to him. "I have to try. No one else does." If not to make her brother fulfil his duty by her, at the very least to do what is right for the kingdom.


	21. Chapter 21

The High Septon would have a fit if he saw her now, Aelinor thought. The man considered her some sort of martyr, a paragon of chastity and tolerance. Yet here she was in the arms of a man not her husband. Again, she'd allowed herself to be tempted and led astray. "We ought not to do this," she told Brynden, slowly retreating her hands back to her sides.

So many things could go wrong. They could be found out. It would be treason, what they were doing. And yet, never had treason felt so lovely and pleasing as it did when she let herself be swept in Brynden's arms. She was no wicked woman, but she wanted to be loved and to love in return. The Gods have fashioned her so.

"We ought not to," Brynden agreed with her, slipping his arms around her waist.

It would have been prudent to push him away. She didn't. It would have been right of her to leave the room. She didn't. Aelinor had stopped doing the right thing the moment they wedded her to Aerys, the moment they put a crown on her head and power in her hands.


	22. Chapter 22

It wasn't love. At least nothing like the love the bards sang about. Her troubles didn't automatically disappear when she saw his face, and Aelinor didn't feel herself soar. But him walking next to her, their hands brushing, the discreet stares. That she did like, they made her smile behind her hand. It wasn't love, not in the sort Aemon the Dragonknight had for Naerys, not the type Daemon felt for Daenerys.

The alcove protected them from prying eyes, his mouth hot on hers. It couldn't be love. His hands held her by the waist, fingers digging into her sides. The slow release of air and an unintelligible sound followed. It couldn't possibly be love. For the one he loved had mismatched eyes and a captivating beauty. Aelinor knew she didn't have love. But she had this, whatever it was; the closeness would have to sustain her.

Slim fingers trailed an upward path, following the shape of her. How sweet the forbidden fruits always were. She tangled her own digits through his silver tresses, a gentle knotting without so much as a pull.


	23. Chapter 23

Brynden's eye followed the Queen as she granted another one of the lords audience. Her face had set itself in a stern mask. Aelinor played her part well. The burdens resting on her shoulders had forced her to adapt. And this sureness of hers when dealing with courtly matters was a beautiful sight. She was beautiful.

Even married to another, it was for him that she laughed, and he that she shared her troubles and joys with. Aerys faded into the background, as husband and King. The decision they took, they made together. And a vow born out of coercion, even said before the High Septon, held little value. There was something far more potent in whispers of the long nights.

Their eyes met for a moment, lingering almost affectionately. Her attention turned back to those who had come to seek her, his never strayed from her face. Brynden drank in the sight of her, for there would never be another time to do so, he knew that well. Each moment was unique, never to be exactly reproduced a second time.


	24. Chapter 24

Pain came with the sensation of being ripped apart. A cry was released from Aelinor's mouth; she closed her eyes willing the sting to ease. Hot, red blood ran down her inner thigh. Brynden murmured something against her neck, but she couldn't quite make out if it had been an apology or an endearment. Aelinor felt herself expand, stretch to accommodate him. Her eyes stung, unreleased tears glimmering.

"Just this once," Brynden had promised her, when her eyes had shown her uncertainty, despite her body's cooperation. "It has to be done. The pain won't last, my Lady."

Warm skin and coiling heat, Brynden grunted against Aelinor's uncovered shoulder. How had they come to this? He didn't know. It mattered little. Nothing outside of feeling her in his arms and filling his senses with her held significance. She was his in a way she'd never been anyone's before. That brought a thrill.

"Brynden," she whispered, nails digging into his flesh. He shuddered with the effort of holding back. His name poured from her lips over and over again. "Oh, Brynden. Please."


	25. Chapter 25

Shiera appeared before him like a ghost summoned from his dreams, tall and thin as a spear, with silver hair and mismatched eyes and a sensual smile. Shiera appeared before him like a phantasm, her hands reached out, her face welcoming. "Brynden." Her lips sought his.

And despite the fact that his mouth still carried Aelinor's taste, Lord Rivers found himself weak to her charm. As always she twisted him around her fingers. A pang in his heart, regret on his mind; Brynden closed his eyes. Aelinor's image flashed in her mind. Something gave way, and he gently pushed Shiera from him.

"What is it?" she laughed, a bit surprised. "Have you not missed me, brother mine?"

"More than you know," Brynden replied. Because he had never found it easy to let go of anything, and especially hard when Shiera was concerned. Her lips to his had reminded him, even if very briefly, of what he was intending to let go.


	26. Chapter 26

Aelinor said nothing when she saw him at the Council meeting. Her vivid eyes didn't stare right into his soul and she didn't ask to know why Shiera was with him so much these days. Brynden, in turn, didn't question the hopeful looks Gowen Baratheon sent her. Instead they listened to reports of pirate attacks.

And later, when the only light was given by the stars and the moon and the candles in her room, he bit into her shoulder hard enough to leave a mark, spilling himself into her. Brynden cradled her to his chest, legs entwining under the sheets. Once again he didn't ask about Gowen and she did not speak of Shiera, the only sound in the room their synchronised breathing. She let not a word pass her lips about his need to mark her in some way, and he told not a soul of the scratches running down his back. Because this they were good at, hiding behind the silence and the doubts and the things that were never said.


	27. Chapter 27

Tybolt Lannister watched the Queen with something like admiration. "You would have us fight, even in these conditions?"

"My Lord of Lannister, I will not allow the Ironborn to do as they please and spill the blood of my people. I shall personally see to it that you have the necessary funds, so long as you join cause with Lord Stark." And that was the last she was willing to say. "You may retreat, my Lord."

Green eyes regarded her a moment longer. He nodded solemnly, bowing before this strong, proud being sitting before him. Tybolt felt the fleeting grip of regret clawing at him. Women such as her were rare and he would've been more than happy to meet one.

Silver hair, violet eyes, a dragon through and through. Tybolt smiled. Aye, a dragon. She was so small and delicate, and yet unyielding and beautiful for it. "Seven be good," he murmured softly. But is was a true pity that she hadn't quickened with child. Just the thought of a son born from her, what a ruler he would make!


	28. Chapter 28

Gowen blinked away the though of the King's wife, bending to kiss Tya's cheek. The Lannister maiden smiled sweetly at him, and exclaimed over the fineness of the Queen's halls. "Oh, but look, my Lord. Is this not simply the most beautiful?" She pointed to a flowering tree. "Such fragrance."

"Well, I do believe she is by far lovelier," the calm voice of Aelinor rose from behind the couple. Gowen spun around, taking Tya with him, both bowing. "Shame on you, Lord Baratheon, you haven't said a word about visting."

"Your Grace, a thousand pardons. We hadn't meant to inconvenience you." He felt almost bashful then. The woman he wanted stood before him, the woman whom he was growing fond of at his side.

"Ah, what inconvenience? I have longed to meet the wonderful woman who is to become your wife. Come hither my dear and let me have a look at you." And so he saw both the women side by side, his heart squeezing painfully inside his chest. Duty, he would have to choose duty over desire, he knew the moment the Queen smiled his way.


	29. Chapter 29

Brynden unlaced her gown, baring her flesh to the summer air and to his seeking lips. Aelinor made a small noise in the back of her throat as her skirts were pushed up, her back guided against one of the sturdier trees. She shivered and shuddered, biting the inside of her cheek to keep quiet. He mercilessly exploited the willing body underneath his fingers and lips.

"My Lord, I beg you, have mercy! Don't tease me so!" Aelinor finally burst, hands falling to the bowed head. "Brynden." Her strategy proved effective, for the man climbed to his feet in a flowing motion, lifting her too off of the ground. Her legs wrapped around him and she fumbled to unfasten his breeches.

"I've missed you," he said against her lips. "Gods, I've missed you."

She had missed him too, Aelinor thought when he'd finally, miraculously, slid in. Aye, missed him badly enough not to protest as they despoiled a sacred spot together. His gods could see them, their carved faces watching on unamused. Oh, but she couldn't have cared less if her husband were to stumble upon them and witnessed her faithlessness to him.


	30. Chapter 30

It was a worrisome state of affairs, knowing themselves under attack. Aerys was not making it any easier on his wife. "Just let Lord Brynden see to it, woman. You've no business there."

Just like he had no business inheriting the throne, like he had no business being a man in the first place, Aelinor thought wickedly. It stood on the tip of her tongue to chastise him yet again, but by then she knew it had little effect on her husband. "Be that as it may, Your Grace, I should still like to hear the news with my own ears."

"You'd do better to pray in the Sept. You've been remiss in your duties to the Fate," Aerys mutters, suddenly reminding her of a sullen child. He scowled at her, spindly fingers pressing into the spine of his book. "People will start talking."

She didn't have the heart to tell him that people had started talking long ago. About the time they noted she had not rounded with child after many moons of being his wife. "Their mouths are no concern of mine."


	31. Chapter 31

"The Lion and the Wolf need our aid," Gowen said as he led the Queen into a spinning pirouette, his touch soft and careful. Aelinor had been the hesitation in his eyes just before he asked for her to partner him. She knew not why. A man on the cusp of his wedding night ought to bear more happily. "My cousin is a squire. He sent me word, thinking I might convince father to send men."

Aelinor pulled back thoughtfully. "The needs of the realm may wait until the morrow, Ser," she replied nonetheless. It was not her place to appear as if she controlled anything. "I shall however speak to His Majesty the King on your behalf." She tempered her words with a smile. "Your bride awaits." Aelinor released his arm and waved him off.

Ruling was a never-ending string of disconcerting events. It was tiring and troublesome and not at all pleasant for the past few weeks. Her nose picked up an offensive scent. Placing a hand to her mouth, the Queen forced herself not to expel the dinner she had eaten.


	32. Chapter 32

Bryden found himself very much distracted by Aelinor's absence as reports from the North were read that morning. While the Queen did not attend every meeting of the Small Council, she made sure to put in an appearance every two weeks or so. Yet lately she seemed preoccupied with her husband, so much so that she trailed his every step. She wanted something of the man and now knowing what turned Brynden's mood sour.

Her refusal to allow him entrance in her bed galled him even more. In truth she hadn't outright closed the door in his face, but Brynden knew avoidance when he saw it and Aelinor was not particularly cunning in hiding hers.

Left without much of a choice, the Hand of the King decided to seek her out and find what nonsense kept her from him. What he did not expect was finding her women packing trunks. Aelinor herself was supervising the process with a careful eye.

"My lady, I beg a word with you," he said upon entering in an abrupt manner. He would not leave without some answers, Brynden decided.


	33. Chapter 33

"What is the meaning of this?" Brynden questioned her in the intimacy of her sleeping chamber. One garnet eye cuts through her, his hand holding her wrist. Aelinor had half a mind to order him outside. It would serve him well not to think he had any right to question her.

"I am leaving for Summerhall," she gritted out nonetheless. "I cannot remain here." There were times when she forgot that despite what many claimed, Brynden did not in fact possess a thousand eyes. Just one. She took his hand and brought it to her flat abdomen. "I have asked for my brother's permission. There is a suffocating quality about this place."

And he understood. It took him but a moment. Yet surprise bloomed on his face. "How? When?"

"The first question I shan't dignify with an answer." Aelinor tapped his shoulder gently. "As for the last, I reckon 'tis not long. A couple of moon turns perhaps."

"Are you certain you wish to go to Summerhall?" His fingers pressed her gently. "I cannot follow you there."

Aelinor nodded.


	34. Chapter 34

Rhaegel helped her in the wheelhouse, gentle eyes full of understanding. He climbed in after her, sliding the doors shut. "I've made sure Maekar won't come to visit," he told her, patting her arm affectionately. "Won't you tell me why though?"

Aelinor gazed down at her lap. Rhaegel was the closest of her brothers, but his odd behaviour ensured that her husband did not want him around and she saw too little of him. He had what she asked of him without one question. She owed him the explanation he desired. "I am with child," she whispered.

Rhaegel knew, like everyone else, that the King did not share his wife's bed. "Is it the Hand's?" he question nonplussed by her confession. "He looks at you sometimes like father used to look at mother."

"No one can know," Aelinor stated. She took her brother's hands in her own. "I tried getting in Aerys' bed. He wouldn't allow it. I have no choice, brother."

A smile graced his lips. Rhaegel took her in his arms, like one would a child. "You are my sister. Whatever you need, I'll be here for you."


	35. Chapter 35

A bloodcurdling scream broke free, pouring past her lips. Aelinor gritted her teeth against the pain and tried to do as instructed. Rhaegel held her hand and whispered comforting words in her ear. She was beyond caring though. Her whole world had narrowed down to the pain pulsing through her body and the exhaustion gnawing at her resolve to remain strong.

And then it stopped. Miraculously. Blessedly. The Queen's head dropped back as thin wines filled the chamber. Aelinor panted, her eyes closed, her brow beaded with sweat. It was finally over. The babe's lusty cries did not allow her peace however, nor did her mother's heart. Bracing herself on shaky elbows, the woman half lifted herself off the mattress.

Rhaegel helped her sit and the babe was placed in her arms with a soft murmur. The child instinctively sought her warmth. "A girl," the midwife said. "Pretty little thing too."

Aelinor looked up. She gave the woman a nod and someone hurried to put the coin into her hands. "You were never here."

"Aye," the midwife agreed.


	36. Chapter 36

Rocking her daughter in a gentle manner, Aelinor sang to her an old, sad song she had heard as a girl. Rhaegel hummed along with her. She could not seem to tear her gaze away from the tiny human she had fashioned.

"Have you decided what to name her yet?" Rhaegel cut through the song, absently playing with a ribbon he had pulled free from Aelinor's dress.

"Vhaella," Aelinor replied simply. "So, will you do as I have asked?" The babe fussed in her hold, a soft whine leaving her lips. Little Vhaella seemed to know what would follow and she make her protest known.

"I should be honoured. She'll want for nothing and when she is old enough, I shall have her brought to court," her brother promised enthusiastically. "Will you tell him about this? Or would you like me to do it?"

"Don't distress yourself over it, brother mine. Would you like to hold her?" She offered him the child and Rhaegel took her from the mother. "It would be best that you claim her as yours soon."


	37. Chapter 37

Parting from one's child was not in fact akin to losing a limb. Aelinor remembered that an old woman had once said something the like about the death of her son. She had claimed to miss his presence as one missed a limb, the phantom clinging to living flesh, continuing to smart and produce pain. The Queen could not agree to the description.

Losing one's child was a pain so intense she found herself wondering how her heart continued. There were many ways a child could die to their parent. Vhaella being taken away to be raised as the natural child of her brother was in effect the death of Aelinor's daughter and the birth of Rhaegel's child.

And there was nothing to be done. She could not claim Vhaella without condemning herself, Brynden and Rhaegel too. If the truth ever came out it would be the chopping block that awaited them. So Aelinor swallowed her tears and returned on her own to King's Landing. if the Seven had any pity of her they would give her daughter long life and good heath.


	38. Chapter 38

To the Queen's great surprise, her husband – the one they'd made her swear oaths to in front of the Seven – was one of those to greet her upon her return. Aerys helped her out of the wheel house and down onto the cobblestone path. For the sake of the crowd that had gathered to witness the procession, Aelinor bestowed a warm smile upon her lawful husband.

Aerys kissed both her cheeks and wrapped her in a shallow embrace. He also took the time to whisper in her ear, "There will be no more long tours of the Seven Kingdoms."

"I was merely enjoying the court at Summerhall," she offered in a calm manner. Her brother was, of course, unmoved.

"Your place is here, by my side, as the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms." He released her and stepped away, allowing a bevy of nobles to greet her as well.

Aelinor fought to keep a placid mask upon her face. It would not do to quarrel with the King in front of so many witnesses.


	39. Chapter 39

It took her more than she had anticipated to rid herself of well-wishers and lords with petitions. It seemed that her absence had convinced many of the Queen's actual role at court. Thus Aelinor was imposed upon to consider one matter or another; she was called upon to give answers and suggestions to different quandaries and settle matters between subjects.

When it came time to retreat to her chambers, Aelinor could barely contain her relief. She dismissed her women with a carless wave and sat down by the fire.

As expected, the hidden door in the wall opened with a pointed hiss. Aelinor glanced over her shoulder to see Brynden coming towards her. She tipped her head back in acceptance of the intimate kiss bestowed upon her a moment later. It was good to be back. If there had been any questions between them or words waiting to be said, they were all completely lost in fierce embraces and passionate kisses. Aelinor laughed softly when her lover tried to pry apart the cords holding her dress tightly bound. He was eager.


	40. Chapter 40

They lied together on the large bed, limbs tangled and bodies sleek with sweat. Aelinor traced meaningless patterns on Brynden's skin, her lips brushing against the reddened skin on his cheek. The red raven glowed in the firelight. "Do you not want to ask me anything?"

He sighed against her temple. "The gods know I do." But the questions remained between them, unspoken for a short while longer. Yet curiosity was too great. "How is she?"

"Beautiful," Aelinor breathed against his shoulder. "I wish you had seen her. She is small and fragile looking, but strong. I knew it the moment I took her in my arms."

"What is her name?" he asked while brushing long fingers through her tangled hair.

"Vhaella, like the Princess Vhaella Targaryen of old." There was a legend around the first Vhaella, the Targaryen princess who should have been a queen, but never quite gained that. "She won't be a queen either."

Brynden kissed Aelinor's forehead by way of comforting her. The pain bloomed in such a clear manner on her face. "But she will be loved, won't she?"

"Always," Aelinor agreed.


	41. Chapter 41

The court was rife with rumour. They whispered in corners that the Queen was back to her old habit of kneeling before the Mother to request that she be given a child. Some tittered behind their hands while other stared at the King's wife with unwavering pity.

For she was to be pitied. The woman had done everything in her power, they said, to attract the King's eye, but he, her faithless husband, betrayed her for dry pages of endless writing.

Aelinor, however, would not betray herself. She turned a blind eye to both the intentional cruelty and the unintentional hurts her people bestowed upon her. She knelt and prayed her daughter many a prayers, including her kind brother in them too.

The only unexpected encounter she had on the steps of the Sept was with Shiera Seastar. She had completely forgot about her, to be honest, and the way she was reminded of the woman's existence did not please her.

"They say you pray for a child." Shiera towered over her. "But my advice it to pray the Gods your husband's rod grows straight in the night. That would help you."


	42. Chapter 42

Much like the pestilence attached itself to its victim, sinking unforgiving hooks into tender flesh, so did Shiera continue to plague the Queen. It was nothing overt, but Aelinor knew how to read subtlety and so did many others.  
>Shiera sat down next to her half-brother with the easy air which many said she had inherited from her mother. Aelinor gazed away from them with a flicker of annoyance. She knew Shiera's aim and she would not be baited. Not with her lawful husband sitting next to her, his dark orbs scrutinising her.<p>

"You are far away," Aerys noted, his voice flat. He was not concerned, just as he was not interested in the cause of her distraction. "If you wish, you may return to you chambers now."

"I am well," Aelinor insisted, brushing his suggestion away like the insulting proposal it was. She would not beat a swift retreat for that woman's enjoyment. "May I dance, Your Highness?"

To that her husband merely nodded and Aelinor had to but turn her smile on one of the many lord vying for a chance to twirl her about the room.


	43. Chapter 43

Whatever his dearest sibling thought that she was doing, Brynden advised her to stop, for her own wellbeing, if not for the fact that he was very, very close to reminding her just who she was toying with. "Enough," he hissed when her hand made to climb its way across his thigh.

He looked with well disguised worry towards the Queen. Aelinor was whispering to her husband, their heads bent intimately together. He cringed, more out of instinct than any real desire to flinch. How frail the egos of lovers were. He wanted to pry her away from Aerys and break everyone of the King's fingers.

Clenching his jaw, the Lord Hand barely noticed Shiera manipulating her position until she was nearly pressed against him. "Won't you visit me?" she asked sweetly as he turned to give her a withering look. "I am sorry we quarrelled, but I miss you too much to be angry anymore."

The flutter of Aelinor's skirts caught in his peripheral vision and he burned with an indistinct need to act. But Shiera momentarily distracted him, palm touching the clear side of his face.


	44. Chapter 44

The thought of punishing her lover was a half formed thing. Aelinor had not intended to raise his ire and did not rightly know why his gaze fixed her in a certain cruel manner that promised swift retribution. She knew well enough that the Lord Hand did not dance, but she refused to curtail her own enjoyment just because Brynden gave her a disapproving look.

She would just have to remind him that she had as much right to her pleasure as him. If he meant to carry on with that woman right in front of her eyes, Aelinor would oblige him and turn her attentions elsewhere.

The end of her partner's sentence tickled her ears and Aelinor rewarded his efforts with a polite laugh. "Thank you, my lord." She did not even know his name. How strange. Still, Aelinor allowed him his current closeness. "I do believe the room has grown hot."

"Allow me," the man murmured, helping her back to the dais trough the throng of people who parted to make way. Her gallant did not neglect to bend scandalously low over her hand.


	45. Chapter 45

Brynden's desire to inflict harm, preferably of the bodily type, upon the man perpetrating a scandalous display was not appeased by the brash way in which he removed Shiera's hand from his face. Her touch stung, but not more than the sight of the Queen's pleasantly flushed face.

Something ugly, but so very familiar crept upon him, as he stood to his feet, making a few of the lords and ladies seated in his proximity squirm in discomfort at his demeanour. Even that failed to restore his good humour. His mind screamed for warm, yielding flesh beneath his fingertips. The Bloodraven fought his every instinct, he struggled against the desire to snap his teeth at every man in the room and make off with the Queen.

The absurdity of such a thought hit him not even a moment later. His hands curled into fists and his jaw worked, muscles quivering. Aelinor was spared one last chilling glance before he stalked off, disappearing into the torch lit corridor. If anyone found his behaviour to be strange they did not dare voice it.


	46. Chapter 46

The gathering drew to a close and Aelinor was forced out of the ballroom's safety. The last look Brynden had give her stayed with her for all the hours she remained in the presence of her husband's courtiers and for the first time in a long time her stomach squeezed in fear.

Her intention had not been to bring a rabid beast about, yet that was how he had looked. If she went to her rooms, he would doubtlessly be waiting there for her. The situation was very much similar to a past even that had resolved itself rather quickly. Yet something told her that the second time around Brynden would not simply accept the same solution.

And she was right. No sooner than she had stepped into her room that she was faced with a grim looking Brnyden sitting in front of her fireplace. And she realised that neither would she accept that solution again.

"Get out," she hissed the command, raising her head high proudly. One ruby eye glinted with thinly veiled malice, but otherwise Brynden gave no sign that he had heard her.


	47. Chapter 47

Her approach was cautious, as if he were some wounded beast that she could not risk upsetting. Brynden gave an absent smirk; she was smart. He willed her closer, but Aelinor refused to come within reach of his arms. She was right to be wary. Brynden conceded to her a few more moments. He could see her trembling lightly and it only served to whet his appetite.

Without warning he jumped up from the chair and lunged for her. The woman barely had the time to squeal in protest and no opportunity to escape at all. They crashed to the ground together and she fought the hold of his arms with wild abandon. But she was nowhere close to really hurting him. In fact, he held her down with only one arm, the other fisting in the thick layers of her voluminous skirts.

"Get out," she repeated, finally becoming still. "I do not want you here." But her words ended on small gasp when he brushed his lips to hers. "Brynden, no-"

But his teeth already branded her, sinking deep enough into her skin to draw blood.


	48. Chapter 48

Powder masked the indents his teeth had embedded into her skin. Brynden cursed himself for a fool for that. She had accepted the branding with a placidity that frightened him. She had simply hidden somewhere within herself and lied still beneath him. It took him a few moments to register the fact that she had withdrawn from him emotionally.

Although he had relinquished her lips and pushed himself away from her, Aelinor had done nothing but remain motionless on the floor, blood smeared across her collarbone. Her eyes had been fixed on a point somewhere above them. Bile had risen in his throat at the sight.

He had tried extracting a reaction out of her, but Aelinor had ignored everything. He had lifted her and deposited her under the covers. After that he ran to his own chamber to hide there until the dawn came.

And with the new day she came as well, but there was an aloofness to her, a sort of coldness that slew him on the spot. Her eyes, it was her eyes. They were two chips of ice in a pale, drawn face. And it was his doing.


	49. Chapter 49

She refused his touch. Aelinor's demeanour relaxed even towards him during the Small Council's meeting, but she would subtly manipulate herself as far from him as she could without attracting the attention of others.

Normally it was the King's duty to attend these meeting, but since the reign of Queen Aelinor began, no man dared suggest that Aerys participate. They knew him to be useless in such matters. Aelinor had been both willing to learn and preoccupied with the state of the realm.

Yet she now shied away from talk, preferring to listen. The Lords seemed to understand that her mood and allowed her passivity, but Brynden could tell they were not pleased. The usually engaging Queen had erected a wall between herself and the world.

And he had to somehow bring it down. As the talk dwindled to a halt and the meeting came to a close, Brynden half expected Aelinor to leave first, but she excused all of them, yet chose to retain her seat.

"Stay, Lord Hand, I wish to speak to you."


	50. Chapter 50

Speaking was the furthest action Aelinor had in mind. Instead she waited until Brynden had occupied his previous seat before vacating hers slowly. Aelinor did not conceal her intentions. To her the matter was simple. She would repay him in kind.

He watched her approach but did not move a muscle. Aelinor was not certain how he knew what she wanted of him, but she would not stop to wonder at that fact. Leaning over his seated form she tugged on the leather of his jerkin, pulling it out of her way. The Queen continued by pushing the tunic away to reveal pale flesh. He continued to watch her silently.

Aelinor rested one knee between his legs, using it to balance herself as she lowered her head to the vulnerable portion of skin she had uncovered. She gave him no warning. Her teeth bit, tearing thorough the thin veneer. Blood rolled on her tongue mere moments later.

Satisfied she pulled back. A single crimson drop slid down her chin.

And then she kissed him, holding his hands at bay as she slanted her lips over his.


	51. Chapter 51

Aerys had finally deigned to break his fast with his wife. Aelinor hadn't the slightest idea as to why, but she was not at all pleased. The Queen had little time for her husband. Matters of state awaited her. And other matters altogether. She held her silence and ate, unconsciously mirroring him.

Birds thrilled without. A hound was barking ferociously and a woman cursed, presumably at a rat. The morning would have been fairly normal, had her husband not cut into her routine. Aelinor levelled a cool stare at him.

The King suddenly stood, forcing Aelinor to relinquish her hold on her eating utensils. She swallowed in a hurry and bobbed him a curtsy. He approached her, one hand coming to rest on the curve of her waist. "I will come to you tonight."

Those words were punch to her stomach. Fortunately Aelinor did not double over under the pressure. She fought to mask her confusion and fear and adopted a pleased mien. "I shall await you then, Your Majesty." Her heart thundered in her chest and her knees grew weak as the door closed with a loud bang.


	52. Chapter 52

The Aelinor he held in his arms once the doors had been barred was a wild thing. Brynden could feel her desperation. She did not want to be made love to. Her need was not be held or caressed, she simply wanted to closeness of another human being, he suspected. So he caught her body between the sturdy desk and his own weight.

Aelinor raked her nails down his back, urging him on as if she was unaware of anything but the clenching muscles and powerful thrusts rocking her body into a harsh rhythm that stole her breath away. She came apart underneath him with a muffled keen, fingers twisting in his hair without a trace of gentleness. Brynden followed of her heels.

He kissed the hollow of her neck, feeling her tremble underneath him. His rhythm dwindled into a gentle swaying. And suddenly she was crying, silent tears flowing down her cheeks. Brynden hissed and became rigid in her hold.

"Aelinor," he prompted softly.

"He wants to sleep with me," she blurted out, her legs squeezing him almost bruising.

And he finally understood her fear. "Sweet Gods!"


	53. Chapter 53

The recognition of one's end being just around the corner, or at sundown as the case may be, was an eye-opener, in more ways than one. To be sure, Aelinor had been quite pleased with her life the day before, when she had not yet known of the fate that awaited her.

Looking back, there were so very many regrets. She should have refused to wed her brother. She should have kicked and screamed and cried. But then it would not have been Aelinor who spoke but another woman, braver, cleverer and infinitely more fortunate. In other words it would not have been her.

One of her ladies-in-waiting snuck behind her and pressed into her hands a small skin. Aelinor gave her a questioning look. She had no need of drink. Making to pass it back into the woman's hands, she was stopped short by a pleading look.

Bending over her mistress' head the lady whispered hurriedly, "Dab some of it on the sheets after the King is done."

And then she knew very well what was in the skin.


	54. Chapter 54

The fire crackled merrily in the hearth spreading its warm light across the rugs on the ground. Aelinor huddled under the covers, working on her breathing. He would come soon, she knew. If she thought the gods would listen to any word of hers, Aelinor would have been on her knees at whatever deity's altar would save her. But some things once broken could not be put back together.

The door slid open to admit in her King and husband. The white flash of a Kingsguard's cloak momentarily stole her attention from the man making his way to her bed. A desperate screech of panic clawed its way up her throat, but Aelinor tightly clamped her lips against it.

Her brother slid part of the cover away and climbed in next to her. Aelinor prepared herself to feel his hands on her person. She took a shuddering breath. And waited, her eyes closed against the world, the darkness her sole comfort.  
>Nothing happened.<p>

Aelinor's eyes opened, instinctively settling on the man at her side.

Aerys sat under the covers, innocently bent over a tome that rested on his lap.


	55. Chapter 55

Aelinor hadn't been sleeping when she heard the tome shut with a small sound of protests. She fancied she could even hear the squeak of the leather bearing the weight of written word. The Queen half expected her husband to evict her bed and make for his own rooms, but Aerys seemed to have slightly different plans.

A hand touched her shoulder, shaking her gently out of her sleep. Aelinor feigned the confused mien of one just roused. She allowed Aerys to lift her sleeping garment, rucking up the thin material, bunching it around her hips. Aelinor closed her eyes and pretended distress.

She prayed it would be over soon. Aerys lacked skill and patience alike. Though Aelinor's pain was not of a physical kind, she did her best to appear sore, all the while wondering how she might apply the blood in the skin without Aerys noticing.

Thankfully, her husband seemed exhausted after fulfilling his marital duties. He pulled out of her and rolled on the other side of the bed without one word.

Surreptitiously, the woman tugged the skin from under the bed and applied a few drops on the linen, beneath her thighs, praying she had chosen the right spot.


	56. Chapter 56

The door burst open with a sharp sound, wood slamming against wood. Aelinor jumped up, gathering the cover against her chest in a flimsy barrier, acting on instinct rather than with logic. Her panic was heightened considerably by the unexpected and abrupt manner in which her bedchamber was invaded.

She was treated to the sight of one scowling brother and a rather worried glance from the other brother, the ones she was not the wife of. Aerys was sitting comfortably in a chair, predictably reading. He did not seem surprised by the intrusion. But she was.

"What is the meaning of this?" Aelinor demanded, anger clear in her voice. "How dare you enter my private rooms?"

"None of that," her husband replied, calmly setting down his tome. She threw him a glare, but held her tongue. Shaming him in front of his subject would earn her nothing good. "I have decided we must try for an heir." He came closer to the bed. "We are now wedded and bedded."

"If you would allow us to have the sheets," Maekar said, a devious look in his eyes.


	57. Chapter 57

"He suspects something, our brother," Rhaegel stated, after his sister's women had filtered out the room, leaving behind only the two of them.

"Which one of our brothers?" Aelinor replied, feigning an ease she did not feel. Her hands were still atremble, her heart still beating fast. The sheets had been just the first obstacle in a long line, she realised.

"Primarily, Maekar." He leaned in closer to her. "Although, he works to poison Aerys' mind. He found something at Summerhall." The blood chilled in her veins at such news.

"Is it about Vhaella? Gods be good, not my daughter." Her fingers gripped the sleeve on her brother's shirt tightly. "She is safe. You promised me."

Rhaegel shook his head. "Vhaella is in excellent condition. What our brother found concern you. He will not tell me a word of it though." His eyes softened slightly. "You must watch out for his, sister. There is something I do not like in his face of late."

Aelinor draped a fur lined cape across her shoulder and rose to her feet. "I am his queen, whether he likes it or not. To attack me is to attack the Iron Throne."


	58. Chapter 58

Brynden found his beloved in the godswood, sitting on the felled trunk of a tree. She looked up upon his arrival, but something in her eyes gave away her fear. Coming closer to her, he realised that she had been crying, Brynden knelt down next to her and took one of her small hands in his.

A sob broke forth from her lips. Aelinor threw her arms around him and used his shoulder to muffle her weeping. "I have never felt so humiliated." The words were clear despite the fact that she mouth moved against his jerkin.

Whether she referred to having to submit to her husband's touch or if she spoke of Maekar's callousness in retrieving proof of the consummation, Brynden could not bring himself to ask. He stroked Aelinor's silken tresses and thanked the gods that she yet drew breath, that he could still hold her in his arms.

"I must leave for some time," he told her when her weeping had dwindled. "Your brother, Prince Rhaegel, thinks that you are in some danger from Prince Maekar. I must find out what prompted his insolence."

And the pieces fell into place.


	59. Chapter 59

Brynden's eyes were everywhere. Aelinor was much aware of that. Still, even knowing that his spies roamed around, undoubtedly watching out for her too, the Queen could not rest easy. Maekar's arrival had thrown not only the court into a frenzy, but also Aelinor's conscience. Her peace of mind had been utterly shattered.

And her fears soared high. Maekar had a nose for intrigue and he was also, for some reason, bent on turning the King against the Lord Hand. While she did not think Aerys would every lift a finger against any member of his court, Aelinor worried that others would do it for him.

Of late she had been avoiding seeing any of her brothers, unless her attendance was mandatory. And it always never was. Staring for too long at her husband's face tended to make her queasy and Maekar never helped by staring at her in an accusing manner.

"Your Majesty," a voice called out softly, pulling Aelinor away from her thoughts. The Queen looked over her shoulder, her gaze questioning. "I have brought the green silk." The girl held out the thin material for Aelinor to inspect.


	60. Chapter 60

Documents and letters were strewn across the desk and the wooden floors. The thin sliver of light which came through the high narrow window was barely enough, yet even so the lone man in the chamber sifted through the papers with avid curiosity, his turmoil made apparent by the unkempt hair and gaunt cheeks. The figure was bent, concentration written in every line of his body.

A shrill sound came from somewhere outside, cutting through the silence like a knife. Brynden looked up from the paper he had been analysing, his one ruby eye widening in apparent astonishment. He climbed to his feet with slow movements and gathered a few of the cluttered sheets, arranging them in a neat stack. He had what he'd come for and it was time to head back.

There had been little that he'd asked of the gods and they had seldom given him what he begged of them. Yet this once, he was unsure what his reaction was supposed to be. It was joy and agony, both speared through him.

Only one thought registered in his mind and it kept repeating over and over, an obsessive chorus. Aelinor had to know.


	61. Chapter 61

Brynden arched a thin eyebrow at the summons of the King. His innate suspicion roused, the Lord Hand carefully prepared for confronting the weak-willed Aerys. There was no doubt in his mind that it was not, in fact, the monarch behind this scheme, but his brother, Prince Maekar. If he knew what Brynden thought he knew then the situation was dire.

"What news, my lord?" asked a calm Rhaegel coming out from behind a column.

An equally unmoved Brynden inspected him. "One should think it discourteous to leave your new child all alone, Your Grace."

"She's a bastard, my lord. I am not expected to keep company with her," Rhaegel spoke with an assumed easiness. Yet, when one took the trouble to peer deeper, they would make out the reasoning behind such words.

They moved past one another, Brynden staring absently straight ahead of him. He would speak to Aelinor after he was done with the King. A cruel smile bloomed upon his lips. How very fitting it all turned out to be in the end.

He pulled the cloak tighter around himself as if to ward off a chill.


	62. Chapter 62

Aelinor kissed the top of Vhaella's head, stroking a single finger to her silver ringlets. Rhaegel had brought her for a short visit, claiming that this close to her mother, Vhaella has grown fussy and nothing would please her but the Queen's embrace.

She was a little angel as far as Aelinor was concerned. So lost was she in admiring Vhaella that she barely heard the door open. When the sound finally registered, Aelinor looked up to see a grim faced Brynden. Rhaegel excused himself, leaving the three alone.

"What did His Majesty want?" she asked, holding her daughter close.

Brynden sat down next to her and took Vhaella on his lap. The girl squirmed and caught onto the chain of his office, gnawing at it. The light moment lasted too little to offer any real comfort.

"It is time you knew the truth," Brynden said. "I should like to recount a story to you." He gave Vhaella back to her waiting arms and stared into the flames of the fire that had been lit to keep them warm.

"I am listening," Aelinor offered.


	63. Chapter 63

"But that is impossible," the Queen protested, her eyes wide and disbelieving. "I am the daughter of Daeron Targaryen and Mariah Martell." Vhaela slept with her head in her mother's lap, unaware of the discussion.

"That you are not." Brynden pulled out a few papers. He handed them to Aelinor. "Once I am gone read them. Everything shall be made clear to you then." He took her hand in his, stroking his thumb across the thin pale skin of her hand.

"What is my husband planning?" Aelinor demanded. Her eyes narrowed into slits. "Maekar is up to his usual mischief, isn't he? Do you think they know-"

"Nay, they know nothing," Brynden assured her. "However, Maekar too has likely seen the proof."

Aelinor glanced down. "These are letters." Doubt had coloured her tone.

Brynden hadn't the heart to tell her those were the letters of a grieving mother. Nor could did he wish to invade her privacy when she found out. If she wanted his company, she would seek him out.

He bent down to press a kiss to the top of Aelinor's head and brushed his palm atop Vhaella's silky strands.


	64. Chapter 64

It was perhaps not quite right to say that she was not Aelinor Targaryen. She was certainly Aelinor and she came from the Targaryen line. Though she had been born Aelinor Penrose, the blood of the dragon burned just as hotly in her veins as it did in any of her brothers'.

Indeed, the daughter of a Penrose. The Queen of that Westeros of long ago had birthed a stillborn daughter and her grief had been so tremendous that upon seeing the Penrose child she took it for her own and refused to relinquish hold. Perhaps it had been all for the better as she had been motherless by then.

Aelinor wiped a tear away and carefully folded the letter back. She glanced to the fire and twirled the paper between her fingers. It would be so very easy to rid herself of the evidence. No one would know. History would have no inkling to the details. They would curl and blacken and remain unknown.

Yet she could also use them for another purpose.

The Queen stood to her feet. She walked to the small trunk at the end of the bed, opened it and let the letters fall in.


	65. Chapter 65

Sickened by the smell coming from the table, Aelinor pushed back her chair and purged out the contents of her stomach with great strong heaves. One of her ladies held her hair back and another rubbed her back soothingly.

"Your Majesty," the first one said, "I believe 'tis a child. I have six brother and sisters. I'm the eldest, so I've seen my mother carry them all. She too was awfully sick." Aelinor wiped her mouth with a handkerchief and gave the lady a questioning stare.

"She speaks the truth, Your Majesty," the other confirmed.

Affecting surprise, Aelinor touched a hand to her middle. Of course it was all a big production. She had known the moment her blood did not come that seed had quickened within her. Yet she had to act, or else her brother would suspect something.

Had Aerys not slept with her, she would have needed to hide her second pregnancy too. But the good Seven seemed to have other plans for the life in her womb and Aelinor would see them through if she could help it.

For sister or cousin of the King, she was the Queen.


	66. Chapter 66

Her husband had sealed himself behind a set of tick, hard doors, one book or another in his lap. Aelinor supposed she ought to be thankful. But his behaviour enraged her. She had been sick to her stomach, so uncomfortable that she could not attend the Council meeting. She had hoped that for once in his life Aerys would take charge.

"Your Majesty, you should rest, not walk a whole through the carpet," one of her women chided lightly, her tone only half-joking. "Fretting cannot be good for the babe."

The babe, Aelinor thought somewhat annoyed, should be mindful of the fact that she had a duty to her realm too. "Do not worry yourself. This child is strong. I can feel it." She placed a hand over her still-flat middle. Mayhap the gods would give her a son; someone she could shape into a strong ruler. Someone who would not hide behind books and flimsy excuses.

"Even so, Your Majesty," the woman spoke once more, "will you not sit with us and speak to us about Summerhall?"

"If you insist," the Queen replied and moved towards them with a light step.


	67. Chapter 67

It started with a dull pain burning in her abdomen. Certain that it would pass on its won, Aelinor had gone about her day without a care. In her state, she was seldom allowed to go anywhere but the gardens.

So there, Aelinor passed the hours with regular pursuits, not at all out of the ordinary. But well into the afternoon the pain flared at unimaginable proportions. With a sound of distress the Queen jumped to her feet and all her companions rushed towards her.

For a few moments Aelinor was unable to understand much as her eyes fixed on the ground. She'd moved her leg, unexpectedly revealing a small pool of a thick red substance coating the grass. She would never really be sure what prompted her to scream out; mayhap her intuition, or some other such.

Yet it was all so very clear. Even in those moments. She knew.

"Your Majesty," someone called to her.

Another voice was crying out for a maester. "Hurry, bring the Grand Maester. Move you fools!"

Despite all the people who tried to help her, the Queen wanted just one man. She clamped her lips shut, least she betray herself.


	68. Chapter 68

Brynden pushed past the two guards at the Queen's door with a snarl. His one eye blazed a furious red, planting fear in the heart of however happened to be in his way. The King had decreed that none but the Grand Maester and his helpers were allowed in the Queen's bedchamber. Thus Brynden had had to wait on the old man and then on the King himself – as he wished to be first to witness.

The Queen, it was whispered through the halls, had been delivered of not one, but two little ones. Both of them boys with the Targaryen looks of their father. The King was said to be overjoyed, but not more so than his brother Maekar – whom many suspected of being against the ascension of Rhaegel to the throne, as the Prince would have had Aerys not sired heirs of his own.

When his gaze fell over Aelinor, sitting in bed, clutching a bundle to her, Brynden's heart stopped for a moment. The woman looked up at him, stares twining together.

A shrill cry broke the moment and Aelinor was forced to look to the second child, lying at her side, small limbs flailing about. 


	69. Chapter 69

Rhaegel held Aelyn and peered at the babe's face. "Incredible, they truly do look the same. It is like a mirror."

"It truly is," Aelinor laughed, holding Aenar to her bosom as he fed lustily. "Tell me brother, how is Vhaella? Has she grown much Is she content? Is she healthy?"

A mother would never truly stop worrying about her children, even knowing them in the best of cares. She could but wonder and put forward questions, it was the only connection she had to her daughter. Aelinor looked up from Aenar to Rhaegel.

"She is well, growing every day." The answer stole a smile from the Queen. Rhaegel placed the babe in the crib. "How is the Lord Hand, dear sister?"

Rhaegel had always been able to sense tension and the cause could not be very difficult to figure our, given all he knew about her and Brynden. Aelinor shrugged. "I told him I knew not whose seed I'd taken. Perhaps that was a mistake, yet he asked me for the truth and I knew not what else to say."

"It shall pass," Rhaegel assured her after a few moments of silence. "Give it but time."


	70. Chapter 70

"Is that lamprey pie?" Maekar asked, looking with obvious disgust to her choice of food. Aelinor shot him an annoyed look. "Gods, I will never understand how you and Rhaegel can eat that."

"And I shall never truly understand you either, brother," she forced herself to say. Aenar gurgled softly, plum small limbs stretching out. Aelinor was pulling her hair out of the boy's reach in the next moment. "Should you not be more concerned with Summerhall though, instead of monitoring me?"

He grimaced at her. They both knew he had been in King's Landing for a bit too long. "Well, as it happens, dear sister, I have come to let you know I am indeed making fort Summerhall in a week's time."

The wet-nurse brought Aelyn in through the side door. Aelinor beckoned her closer. "Nurse, His Grace would like to hold his nephew."

Maekar had had no such plans. Aelinor smiled at him guilelessly as the child was deposited in his arms. Aelyn, none too gentle of temper, started howling almost as soon as he was in his uncle's arms. Aelinor allowed Maekar to struggle with the child for a few moments, before handing Aenar to the nurse and going after Aelyn.


	71. Chapter 71

Having an army of servants did at times have its perks. Given that her beloved Brynden had taken to sulking in some dark corner and would not see her unless some important issue bore discussing, Aelinor decided that she would have to take matters into her own hands. Thus, she left the twins in the care of their nursemaid and began her journey towards the Tower of the Hand.

Her instinct were proven right when she did indeed found the Bloodraven in his rooms, poring over some documents. The interruption provided was regarded with juts a moment of annoyance, in the space of which Brynden was to realise the identity of his visitor, and then his crimson stare became somewhat softer, at the same time confused and apprehensive.

"I hadn't thought you of so mean a mind that you would allow for such uncertainties to put a gap between us when you know very well to whom my heart belongs." She sat down languidly, waiting to hear his reply.

"And I hadn't though I would mind until your words reached my ears." He put his quill away. "I do not like this."

"Kill him then," Aelinor offered offhandedly. "Or endure. I like it no better, but this must be our fate."

"I cannot abide by this."


	72. Chapter 72

Aelinor looked at her sons. "We should try at least." Brynden was moving behind her. Had she not known any better, she might have assumed it was the wind. "Every man must die." At some point. And if Aelinor had to bring the moment closer, she would not shy from that.

Leaning back against her lover, the Queen gave a soft sigh. "Why do you say nothing at all?"

She supposed she wanted him to encourage her one way or the other. Decisions were always easier when made by someone else. Instead, Brynden's hold locked tightly about her waist. And she knew, in that moment, that the decision, whatever it would be, had to be hers.

"Very well then; leave all decisions to me." At that he chuckled. Aelinor smiled.

"So I should make the decisions then?" She almost nodded. It was tempting, to be sure.

In the end she didn't. "Nay. I do believe I have it all well in hand. We stay. We stay and we make the best of what was given to us."

A nod was her answer. "We stay," Brynden echoed her.

The Queen could not help but wonder if staying was the brave choice or the cowardly one.

Mayhap it was both.


End file.
